


Chikara the Catbat

by Stylin_Breeze



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Next Generation Captains (Haikyuu!!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylin_Breeze/pseuds/Stylin_Breeze
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and only two days left until the film competition deadline. But can the next gen captains finish their entry for the contest when Chikara suddenly finds himself with wings and a tail?A stand-alone fic from the universe of "Shigeru the Corgi Merdog"
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	Chikara the Catbat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crows_Imagine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/gifts).



> The original fic was dedicated to the server that inspired it. This fic is dedicated to the person who inspired it. ;)
> 
> Except the cuckoo clock. The cuckoo clock is not dedicated to anyone. The cuckoo clock is just there because I’m cuckoo. XD

Terushima’s feet pattered across the dimly lit floor. He skirted around a corner but found himself in terror facing a dead-end. Before long, a malicious figure eerily slid around the corner too. Terushima clambered into a crouch, back scrunched fearfully into a corner, his arms shielding his face for feeble protection.

“Now, there’s nowhere to run from…the Catbat,” said the black-clad figure. The man brandished feline fangs with a hiss. “And now…,” the vampiric figure continued evilly. And then, in a completely discordant move, he looked off to the side and spoke casually to somebody else. “Hey. What’s my line again?”

“Cut,” Ennoshita said, and the entire film crew in Shirabu’s house sighed. “Kenji? What’s the line?” Chikara called deadpan.

Kenji was lying flat on his back, typing on his phone, a stapled copy of the film script on his chest. “Huh? Which line?”

“The same one he forgot the last three takes,” Akaashi whispered from behind the camera.

Shirabu, the assigned editor but who right now just hung around to ensure they didn’t demolish his house, rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Hey!” Atsumu squawked. “Don’t blame me cos Chikara’s script is so complicated.”

“‘And now, you’re mine,’” Futakuchi read aloud flatly. “Oh, yeah. Can’t get more complicated than that.”

“This woulda been better if I wrote the script,” Atsumu Miya grumbled under his breath. Then the boom mic knocked Atsumu over the head. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” Yahaba shrugged unapologetically, holding the offending microphone pole. Futakuchi cackled at the move against Chikara’s friend from Hyogo. The director inhaled to center himself.

“From the top!” Director Ennoshita commanded authoritatively. After all, they only had until tomorrow before the film contest deadline on Christmas Day.

Atsumu managed to get through the line this time. Per the script, the cowering Terushima grabbed a lamp off a table and—

“Not that lamp!” Shirabu screamed.

“Cut.”

Seeing that the lamp was part of the home décor and not the requested prop, Akaashi, doubling as production manager, turned to Futakuchi. “Kenji, didn’t you buy a lamp with the money I gave you?”

“Why? That lamp’s perfectly good, so I got us some marzipan instead.” He was chowing down on the ornate fruit-shaped treats that until now nobody knew he had.

“You are not damaging anything in my house, or did you forget what happened to the vase?!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Futakuchi grumbled of the flower vase he spiked a volleyball into on Halloween.

“OK! Take a break while we get some props,” Ennoshita sighed.

Shirabu stretched. “Guess I’ll go edit in the meantime,” he said and pattered upstairs to his computer. Yahaba decided to do some foley recording, while Terushima and Atsumu were directed to stay behind so they wouldn’t be in public in costume.

“I’ll just relax here,” Kenji said, resting on the recliner.

In response to Futakuchi’s lackadaisicalness, Ennoshita and Akaashi gave each other a knowing look.

Futakuchi trudged through the store griping, Chikara and Keiji (who forced him to come with them) leading the way.

“That’s right. We should also get a cuckoo clock for the final scene,” Chikara said, suddenly remembering as they ended up in the clock aisle.

Futakuchi giggled at the, in his opinion, unnecessary purchase. “That idea is—”

“ _Cuckoo_ ,” announced a cuckoo clock beside him on the shelf, a little bird popping out for a second from a door and then retreating.

“I like this one,” Kenji said, making a complete 180 in attitude.

“How’d you meet that setter from Hyogo anyway?” Akaashi asked Ennoshita after they shifted the cuckoo clock box into the cart.

“Our teams played each other in nationals. I knew he’d be good for the film. I hoped he’d get along with everyone, but….” He trailed off as they ended up in the lamp aisle. Instantly they found the perfect prop: an ugly, curvy black lamp that looked like it’d fit right in at a Hollywood witch’s house.

Ennoshita went to grab it, but when he did, a wrinkled hand with pointy, black fingernails lunged for the lamp as well. The two hands smacked each other and knocked the lamp, which wobbled and fell, thankfully not breaking when it clattered on the floor.

The cheap lamp rolled into the foot of the other shopper.

An elderly woman draped in a black shawl picked up the lamp, beady eyes glaring at the teenage boy who had tried to snatch her find.

“Little boys shouldn’t be so rude,” she croaked and placed the lamp in her shopping cart. Her cart squealed away on a wonky wheel.

Futakuchi gave the woman the ugliest look ever. “I didn’t realize they let _witches_ shop here,” Futakuchi scolded quietly. The three boys flinched when the melody of the squeaky wheel suddenly stopped.

The elderly woman stared back with contempt. For some reason, her gaze landed specially on Chikara.

“You boys must learn to respect your elders,” she warned wickedly, then sashayed away.

The experience left the boys with chills.

“Is it just me, or was that woman familiar?” Keiji asked.

“I’ve never met her, yet I feel like we’ve crossed paths somehow,” Chikara agreed.

“Who cares?” Futakuchi cawed and grabbed an identical lamp off the shelf. “It’s not like there’s not others. Let’s go so we can finish shooting tonight and relax tomorrow.”

They forgot all about the awkward incident by the time they returned to Shirabu’s house. Kenjirou’s parents had left town but promised they’d be back in time to celebrate Christmas. That gave Chikara’s friends free reign of the home this Christmas Eve before the contest’s incongruous deadline tomorrow. Nearing the front door, they heard two kids hyperactively chattering inside the neighbor’s garage before the door closed.

“That’s the house of the woman who turned Shigeru into a merdog, right?” Futakuchi asked.

“Yep,” Chikara said, pursing his lips.

“Guess her grandkids are visiting again,” Keiji deduced, recalling the pair of elementary schoolers who only two months ago disclosed to them the cause of Yahaba’s ludicrous Halloween curse.

“As long as she leaves us alone tonight, I don’t care,” Kenji declared flippantly.

“Bonum vesperum,” Keiji announced upon entering the house, practicing his language classes while at the very least trying to sound original.

“Huh? Dude, I can’t speak French,” said Atsumu, sitting up.

“Good. Cos it’s Latin,” replied Akaashi deadpan.

“Are they not the same thing?” asked Futakuchi, and now Keiji wished he had just kept his mouth shut.

A light brown corgi entertained everybody in the house. It was the newest addition to the Shirabu household, purchased for Kenjirou by his parents when they returned from their Halloween business trip. To many laughs, the dog’s name from the pet store had been Shigeru. Atsumu and Terushima were all over the animal, the transfer of dog hair onto their costumes the furthest thing from their minds.

“Where’s Kenjirou?” asked Chikara and was told he was upstairs editing to avoid the corgi.

“I don’t know why that Kenjirou guy acts like he hates this dog so much. It’s adorable!” Atsumu proclaimed.

With some skepticism, the others glanced at each other. They knew Kenjirou’s alleged reason for hating the dog: despite it by all appearances being friendly, Shirabu insisted the neighbor “witch” cursed the animal so that it loved everyone but him.

“Can we please not touch the dog in our costumes?” Akaashi sighed, setting the lamp in its spot, while Ennoshita perched the cuckoo clock on the mantel of the house’s real fireplace, an unusual feature for the neighborhood.

“Yeah, let me play with Shigeru!” Futakuchi squealed.

“Let’s finish where we left off!” Ennoshita corralled, and they managed to bang out the rest of the incomplete scene in no time, right as the tape was nearly full.

“All right. Take five,” Ennoshita called.

“Can I play with the dog now?!” Futakuchi piped immediately.

“It’s not my house or my dog, but sure,” authorized Chikara.

Futakuchi dived onto the animal and gave it plenty of pets and love, continually repeating its name “Shigeru” enough to make Yahaba want to puke.

Finally he glanced up at the human Shigeru. “Hey, how come you weren’t this cute when you were a merdog, huh?”

“Bite me,” Yahaba growled. Kenji pretended to chomp his teeth in the air.

“A merdog?” Atsumu asked with wide-eyed fascination.

“Oh, you see, on Halloween, Shigeru—” Futakuchi began but was kicked in the spine by Yahaba. “Never mind,” Kenji muttered dejectedly.

“What? You can’t just not tell me now!” Atsumu screamed. “I’m part of this group too!”

“Excuse you!” Yahaba protested, hands on hips. Ennoshita cringed. “ _Chikara’s_ your friend, and he’s the one who invited you here, so don’t act like that makes you part of our group.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” Atsumu winced anxiously.

This was exactly what Ennoshita was afraid of. He was about to intervene when Shirabu did the hard work of the creator for him.

“Hey!” yelled Shirabu over the upstairs railing. “You know full well the person who this project is for doesn’t want your angsty vibes all over it!” he said, seemingly in reference to the film committee. “Now give me the tape so I can continue editing.”

As he passed by downstairs, the dog immediately got on its legs and growled. Shirabu gave it a dirty look.

“Somehow you’re still nicer than _Shigeru_ ,” he whispered at the animal, making the veins bulge in Yahaba’s forehead.

While Shirabu retrieved the tape, Terushima tiptoed over to Futakuchi with a bottle of black face paint that they’d used as part of the makeup.

“Don’t say anything. I’m gonna douse Atsumu,” he snickered.

“Do it,” Futakuchi encouraged quietly.

Terushima sneaked towards his target unsuspectingly examining the little bird door on the cuckoo clock.

“Won’t this thing interrupt shootin’?”

“Nope,” said Chikara studying its packaging, back turned to Terushima sneaking up on Atsumu. “According to the box, it says ‘guaranteed to go off only when you want it’.”

“How’s it know when I want it to go off?” asked Atsumu as Terushima raised the little bottle of makeup over his blond hair.

And then…

“ _Cuckoo!_ ”

Atsumu shrieked like a girl as the wood-carved bird popped out in his face. He recoiled into Terushima, accidentally knocking the bottle from his hands. It flung across the room.

Ennoshita turned to find out the source of Atsumu’s screech, just in time for his face to be splattered with black face paint.

Nobody dared laugh at Chikara’s defilement—except Futakuchi, who cackled insanely.

“OK,” began Chikara, “we take five…and then we resume.” He wore a brilliant smile, but everyone could sense that underneath that grin he was saying, “you’re all _this close_ to being dead.”

This time, absolutely nobody made a sound.

Chikara headed upstairs to dry himself off. Being in this bathroom again, in the house with all his friends, reminded him of the infamous Halloween night. On the mirror, his imagination could still see the message that merdog Yahaba had pawed on the steamy glass to convey his identity. Chikara chuckled. As ridiculous and frankly frightening as that incident was, it had helped the six of them grow closer.

Maybe Chikara was foolish to try to belatedly induct Atsumu into the group, when he missed out on a huge bonding experience like that….

He sighed. Nothing to be done now.

Then, Chikara swore he heard a witch’s cackle as stereotypical as can be. It echoed around the bathroom as if the guffawing woman stood right next to him.

And then, Chikara’s body began to glow and tingle….

“Who’s a good doggie? Who’s a good doggie? Are you a good doggie? You’re a good doggie,” Terushima yattered on, giving Shirabu’s pet corgi heavenly bliss by rubbing its belly. As soon as Kenjirou rounded the stairs, bent on getting a snack, the dog snarled, even while keeping its stomach vulnerably open to Yuuji’s scritches.

“Oh, screw you, dog,” Shirabu muttered. Kenji was still trying to figure out how to put the next tape cassette into the camera. Kenjirou nudged him to aside and easily inserted the new clip.

“Showoff,” Futakuchi grumbled.

“OK, everyone, shut up!” Yahaba yelled, positioning his mic over Atsumu to record for sound effects. “Now give me your best cackle.”

Atsumu sneered evilly, Akaashi watching nonchalantly. The visitor opened his mouth to speak.

But before he began to emit any noise, through the whole house, as if spookily emanating from indoors with them, a heinous female cackle straight out of a movie ricocheted across the walls.

“That was perfect,” Yahaba said, stopping the recording.

“That wasn’t me though,” Atsumu said warily.

“Sounds like that witch next door is up to something again,” Shirabu remarked, peeking around the blinds at the neighbor’s house. “I hope she doesn’t screw up this film.”

“Yeah, you old bag!” Futakuchi shouted. “We’re trying to make the next _Graduate_ here!”

“I don’t think this film is going to be as good as the _Graduate_ ,” Akaashi cooled. “Chikara may be talented, but….”

“Hey. How’d y’all meet Chikara anyway?” Atsumu asked.

He first looked to Akaashi who pondered. “Chikara saved me from drinking a can of Mountain Dew,” Keiji said, looking dead serious.

“I saved his scrappy middle blocker from dying of hunger and homelessness,” offered Terushima proudly, making even less sense.

“He tried to entrap my cousin at the airport,” said Yahaba, with an air of spite.

“He likes the café my manager works at—although I swear if he lays a finger on her…,” he snarled, appearing more than a _little_ protective.

Atsumu turned to Shirabu hoping for a normal answer. “And what’s your excuse?”

“All these people started coming over to my house,”—he gestured at the posse—“and I didn’t tell them to leave, so here we are.”

“Well, clearly I’m the most put-together person here,” Atsumu bragged smugly.

Then, when he looked up at the ceiling, flying indoors was a solid black bat with furry tail; and then “the most put-together person here” screamed at the top of his lungs.

Futakuchi gasped and ran to the camera, hitting record. “Oh, we gotta film this.” He zoomed in on the creature that then made a sound….

“ _Meow_ ,” cried the bat, incongruously harmlessly.

“D-d-d-did that bat just meow at us?” Terushima asked tensely.

Akaashi’s face contorted in horror. “Chikara?”

The group’s eyes darted to look at Keiji.

“Yes! Chikara! Save us!” Atsumu cried, cowering in the corner. “Get the bat before it attacks us!”

“ _Meow_.”

Everyone stayed put as the bat hovered down to Akaashi. Keiji stuck out his arm and index finger like a perch.

The bat, which bore the unmistakable visage of a feline, alighted atop Akaashi’s finger—and then instinctively rotated itself to hang upside-down.

“It can’t be,” said Shigeru, eyes wide. Shirabu sprinted to the upstairs bathroom where he horrifyingly found Ennoshita’s clothes lumped on the floor….

“This is unfair,” protested Yahaba. “It took you guys forever to figure out it was me when I was a corgi merdog, but Chikara you all identify right away?! How come you’re so lucky?” he questioned the bat dangling from Keiji’s finger. Ennoshita the catbat glared unappreciatively. In the background, Atsumu cackled at Terushima and Futakuchi, calling them fruitcakes for falling for this absurd “prank” that the wild animal in the house was somehow Ennoshita.

“The real question,” posed Akaashi, “is why you were turned into a catbat.”

“ _Meow_.” Chikara extended his bat wings like a shrug.

Atsumu skipped over to Akaashi, Shirabu, and Yahaba.

“I mean, this thing is so obviously fake!” Atsumu cried. He yanked on the bat’s wings.

“ _Mrow!_ ” the creature sounded.

“Oh, wow, it’s really convincing,” Atsumu observed to his surprise, “but it’s still so obviously fake!” he continued without any rationale. “Chikara’s playin’ a prank on y’all, and yer all stupid to be fallin’ for it.”

The doorbell rang.

“See?” Atsumu continued, skipping to the front door. “Here’s Chikara right now to prove the joke’s on the rest of ya.”

He whipped open the door and, far from revealing Chikara, in its wake stood the neighbor’s two grandkids.

“Where’s the catbat?!” screamed the 7-year-old boy.

“The who?” Atsumu asked dumbfounded.

“There!” shrieked the 6-year-old girl, wearing _Percy Jackson_ pajamas, pointing at the critter hanging from Akaashi’s hand.

“What’s its name?!” the boy asked Atsumu excitably.

Miya’s eyes flicked between the bat and the strange kids. “Chikara, yer pranks are really elaborate,” he had to say aloud.

Shirabu marched over. “What did your grandmother do now?!”

“Grandma said your friends were mean at the store, so she turned one of them into a catbat,” volunteered the boy with a snicker.

“Oh, wait,” Futakuchi jolted. “That old hag was the witch? And she punished _Chikara_ for that? Hah! Loopy old woman.”

“You’re the one who insulted her,” Keiji mumbled at Kenji.

“How do we turn him back?!” Shirabu yelled at the kids. “And don’t give me more of that cliché BS about ‘true love’!”

“He’ll turn back to normal when he gets the greatest Christmas present ever!” said the girl joyfully.

“But it has to be before Santa arrives, or he can’t turn back until next Christmas!” the boy added eagerly.

“Before Santa—? That’s tonight!” Yahaba exclaimed.

“Speaking of Santa, we better go to sleep so he can come!” the girl said. The boy agreed with her, and they ran off.

Shirabu snarled angrily. “You know what?! Santa isn’t—”

Terushima slapped his hand over Kenjirou’s gob. “—going to be late! Goodnight!”

The blinds rattled when they slammed the door.

Futakuchi marched up to Chikara. “OK, Chikara. What do you want for Christmas, cos otherwise I’m getting you socks, and you’re gonna like it.”

“What’s wrong with socks?” Terushima asked.

Atsumu looked questioningly at everyone. “Anyone wanna tell me what’s up?”

They all paused.

“We have to,” Akaashi acknowledged.

Three minutes later, after explaining the incident of the “corgi merdog,” Atsumu was cackling as hard as he was when they suggested the catbat was Ennoshita.

“You turned this creampuff kid back to normal because sideways-bowl-cut Sabrina over there cried lovingly over his _dear pet dog_? Bahahahahaha!”

“Stop laughing!” Yahaba yelled, beet red.

“Y’know what? Y’all are—”

“ _Cuckoo_ ,” chirped the clock.

“At least yer good for somethin’,” Atsumu smoothly complimented the maverick machine.

All the while, Chikara had been dangling, mulling. And then Keiji noticed the bat jerk with an idea. “Chikara?”

Ennoshita fluttered across the room and landed atop the film camera, looking straight at Akaashi. Nobody else noticed.

“The greatest Christmas present ever…,” Keiji began, and then he understood the message. “We need to finish the film on our own.”

“What?”

“If we finish filming without Chikara, that’s the _greatest gift_ we could give him. We’ll all be busy with our families tomorrow anyway, so even though the deadline is tomorrow night, we’re not going to get any real work done, so we _have_ to finish tonight.”

Terushima smacked his palm. “Exactly! Chikara has done so much for us. He’s the reason we’re even together. This is the least we can do for him!”

Nobody noticed, but Chikara was actually glaring suspiciously at Akaashi. What Akaashi was suggesting wasn’t what Chikara was trying to get at. But Keiji winked at the catbat. Chikara’s slit eyes widened.

So _that_ was Akaashi’s game, he realized. If Chikara were human right now, he would chuckle. Yes, Keiji’s plan would work just fine….

Keiji called for the script and perused the remaining scenes to film. As he thought, only the final scene remained. Futakuchi’s oversights meant they still lacked some necessary props though. He wrote one missing item on separate sheets of a notepad and handed a page each to Shirabu, Terushima, Yahaba, and Atsumu. He flashed one leaf that he kept for himself.

“We each buy one thing and meet back here. Kenji, stay and watch Chikara.”

“Y’all are loonies, but I guess I’ll play along,” commented Atsumu. He faced Chikara the catbat and saluted. “I’ll help you, little buddy!”

Ennoshita glared at the patronizing gesture.

“Kenji, start setting up the next scene before we return,” Akaashi said as he became the last person out the door. “And don’t burn the house down.”

With that, Kenji was left alone with his thoughts…and with a fluttering black bat with fangs and a swaying tail.

“All right, Mr. Director,” Kenji smirked, strolling over to the nearest tungsten light to flip it off. “What’s the best movie ever made?”

“ _Meow_ ,” replied Chikara.

“ _Cats_? Interesting choice, but no,” he teased tastelessly. “It’s actually _Citizen Kane_ ,” he smirked, knowing full well Ennoshita personally found the movie “overdone.”

Even in catbat form, the displeasure at the joke exuded from Chikara’s furry face.

“What? No snazzy comeback?” Futakuchi said and rested his hand on the light’s sizzling hot casing. He yelped, knocking the lamp over with a clunk.

Kenji doused his bright red hand in cold water in the downstairs bathroom. Chikara hovered patiently until the smell of smoke confronted him, and he began to meow incessantly.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me. You should have told me those lamps were hot!” Kenji bickered, forgetting that he was warned about the hot bulbs multiple times already. He stepped out of the restroom and caught a whiff of smoke.

He spotted the carpet under the fallen-over lamp smoldering.

Chikara fluttered over and clicked off the lamp with his tiny claws while Kenji rolled the item to the side and stamped out the small fire that turned the cream-colored carpet black. He then “resolved” the issue by positioning a rug over the spot. Finally, he collapsed into a recliner.

“I need a nap.”

“ _Meow_ ,” protested Chikara, given Kenji had made no progress setting up the next scene. Futakuchi peered over at the obnoxious cuckoo clock.

“ _Cuckoo_.”

“I don’t need your opinion.”

It was 7:30. Around this time, he’d be getting out from volleyball practice during the school season.

Volleyball….

Suddenly Kenji recalled Yahaba’s plight a few months earlier, when the stoic corgi merdog was overcome by primal human instinct at the sight of Terushima with a volleyball. He wondered if Chikara could be humbled in the same way….

Kenji snickered as he ran off to the garage and tore apart the place. A car alarm sounded, but a few kicks from Kenji silenced it. At last, he found Shirabu’s custom purple, swan-emblazoned volleyball and reappeared with a sinister grin.

“Chikara, wanna play?”

Ennoshita’s eyes went wide, and he took off towards the ceiling—not in instinctive desire to play but in abject fear of what Kenji might do.

“Hey, don’t run away! Come on!” Kenji said and prepared to serve the ball.

“ _Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow!_ ” he begged for Kenji to stop.

Futakuchi heedlessly tossed and spiked.

Chikara dodged the ball hurtling through the air. It disappeared through the window with a shattering sound.

Outside, Kenjirou and Shigeru jogged home, each tightly holding a prop.

“You think Chikara’s OK with Kenji?” Yahaba asked. “I hope he doesn’t try to play volleyball again.”

“He’s not that stupid,” stated Kenjirou.

Immediately a flying purple volleyball nailed Shirabu in the face, and he disappeared into the gutter.

Yahaba didn’t bat an eye. “OK, if you say so.”

Later that evening, Terushima and Yahaba managed to prevent Kenjirou from murdering Futakuchi. With Chikara’s fluttering support, they all agreed to cover for Kenji’s screwups and get Shirabu’s house in order before his parents arrived.

After nailing a board over the damaged window (which now looked perfect for the final scene of the film, with the catbat vampire Atsumu cornered in an old house, replete with a cuckoo clock on the fireplace), Shirabu sped through the editing upstairs while the rest recorded the finale. Akaashi alongside Terushima had to stand in for one of the angry villagers, leaving the camera in Futakuchi’s hands.

Despite the crew change, filming went well. Yahaba confirmed the sound was A-OK. Chikara fluttered about, tugging on people’s shirts to reposition them and meowing to call “lights, camera, action” and “cut.”

Shadows of pitchforks and other peasant utensils crowded over the cowering Atsumu, his pale face stained by fake blood. He woozily wobbled and exclaimed: “This is the end…of the _catbat_!” And died….

“ _Meow!_ ” Chikara cried, and Futakuchi pressed the record button on the camera.

Everyone exhaled gratefully. Atsumu stood and dusted himself off.

“How’d I do?”

“Oh, no. He’s still alive!” Yahaba sarcastically yelled.

“Shaddup,” grumbled Atsumu.

“You want a piece of me?” Shigeru said, getting to his feet. Ennoshita flew in between them and batted their faces with his wings to break up the scuffle before it threatened to begin.

“You can have him,” Kenjirou said flippantly, appearing at the top of the stairs. “I finished editing the rest of the film. Where’s the final scene?”

“Here,” Akaashi said, removing the tape from the camera.

“Have fun,” said Futakuchi, reclining for a nap. “I’ll wait here.”

Shirabu’s cold eyes from the railing upstairs engulfed the lazing Kenji. “You are going to figure out how to clean up my house before my parents get home tomorrow….”

“Yes, sir,” Kenji gulped fearfully.

“ _Cuckoo_ ,” the clock helpfully announced 10 p.m., reminding the group of their impending deadline.

“Two hours,” Terushima started to panic. “Uh, we have to finish by midnight, right?”

“Who knows?” shrugged Akaashi. “It’s anyone’s guess if that’s when ‘Santa comes’ or not.”

The doorbell rang. When Terushima answered it, the kids from earlier bounced excitably on the porch.

“Does your grandma know you’re sneaking over here after dark in your pjs?”

“We wanna see the film!” screeched the boy.

“We’re going to finish it now. But you can stay and play with Kenji!” Terushima volunteered. Kenji’s jaw dropped.

“OK!” the two kids screeched. Futakuchi mumbled a threat against Terushima.

With Futakuchi playing babysitter of two kids, a corgi, and a catbat, everyone else gathered around Shirabu’s computer.

“I wanna see my grand moment!” Atsumu screeched.

“Let it download first,” hushed Shirabu. “Also, I have to admit. For an annoying guy, your acting isn’t half bad.”

“He’s got a point,” Terushima added. “You make a great costar even if you’re a pain off-camera.”

“And that laugh was amazing earlier,” quipped Yahaba. “If only you were that humble in everything else you do.”

“How come all yer compliments have insults with ’em?!” Atsumu decried. He turned to Akaashi who hadn’t said anything. “Come on, Keiji. Say something nice about me, and _only_ something nice.”

“You’re you, and I’m fine with that,” Akaashi shrugged.

“That sounded backhanded!”

“Shush,” Shirabu commanded as the download completed.

“Should we call up Chikara?” Yahaba asked.

“In a minute. Let’s get a preview of what we’ve got,” said Shirabu, and he started to play the tape.

On his screen played Futakuchi’s frantic panning of the camera and Ennoshita’s fluttering near the high ceiling. The unprofessional jerking and twirling of the camera under Futakuchi’s control soon earned a couple of chuckles.

Then the doorbell rang and the neighbor kids appeared. Futakuchi left the camera by itself, and it continued recording. They overheard Atsumu’s emphatic rejections of the possibility Chikara was the catbat.

“This guy reminds me of how we were when Shigeru got transformed,” Yuuji commented thoughtfully, and with that everyone had to agree.

Shirabu said with a smile towards Miya. “You know what? I think you fit right in.”

“Okay, enough sentimentality,” Yahaba interjected. “Let’s skip all this and get to the good part.”

Shirabu jumped ahead. To their exhaustive chagrin, the camera kept filming, capturing even Futakuchi’s hysterical screams as the carpet burned off-camera. Later, Kenjirou screamed countless expletive-laden death threats at Kenji for the destruction of his home. It continued to record them furnishing the set, and Atsumu got into position.

They heard Chikara’s sickeningly sweet little meows signaling for “lights” and then for “camera.”

Akaashi and only Akaashi began to get afraid. “Wait a minute. If we were recording this whole time, what’s going to happen when Kenji hits record again?”

They got their answer a couple of seconds later.

“Yeah, Kenjirou says your grandma is a real jerk,” Kenji Futakuchi explained to the glittery-eyed girl. The boy was rubbing the fur of the corgi Shigeru, whose leg twitched gleefully. “I suggest your grandma turn him into a toad. But a flying toad. Yeah, a flying toad!”

Chikara rolled his eyes.

They heard Shirabu stomping through the hallway upstairs. The corgi hopped to its feet and barked at the unseen source of the stomping. Shirabu appeared at the top of the railing, flaming mad.

“Kenji! You were recording!!!”

“Yeah, I know I was recording. That’s what you wanted. _Duh_.” Futakuchi beamed obnoxiously.

“You were recording when you weren’t supposed to!”

Atsumu lamented on hands and knees in Shirabu’s bedroom at the loss of his shining finale, while Terushima tried fruitlessly to comfort him. Yahaba tried massaging away a headache.

Since the camera had been recording ever since Chikara’s appearance as a catbat, when Futakuchi thought he was starting the camera to record each scene, he unwittingly _stopped_ recording every time they wanted to film.

The visiting neighbor boy stood. “Does that mean there’s no film?”

The girl jumped up and down. “Yay! We get to play with Chikara for a whole year!”

“Hey! This is not a good thing!” Futakuchi rebuked.

Shirabu sighed. “Sorry, Chikara. We tried.”

Yuuji and Shigeru wandered downstairs.

“I feel awful,” Terushima pouted. “Even if it is all Kenji’s fault, I feel like we let you down, Chikara.” Kenji showed mock offense. Yahaba, one arm over his chest, nodded mournfully.

The mood finally got to Futakuchi, who actually looked like he might cry. “Yeah, fine. I know. I screwed up. I just…wanted to be helpful. That’s all….” He sniffled. “I’m sorry, Chikara.”

Chikara fluttered between them. Arriving at the railing and hearing the defeatist talk, Akaashi gnashed his teeth uneasily.

But then Atsumu came darting out to the railing.

“No!” he yelled. “We can still do this! There’s still time until Santa gets here. We’ve rehearsed the last scene enough. We can refilm it without the flubs, and we can edit it in time. I know we can!”

Everyone looked at him with wide eyes.

“Look. I get it,” Atsumu continued. “We’re all a bunch of guys who just happened to become captain, and we’ve got teams that look up to us, but truth is…we aren’t all that great. And I know it’s uncomfortable having me barge in here and acting like I’m one of the guys. But that’s why Chikara means so much to us. He’s the one who brought us all together. Without him, we’d be nothin’! And that’s why we have to do everythin’ we can for him, because otherwise, we’d be a bunch of clueless guys tryin’ to manage teams that are huge handfuls all on our own! Well, you guys would be—but y’hear what I’m sayin’?! We can’t let Chikara down!”

Kenji stomped his foot with renewed energy. “You know what? Ugly Haircut is right!”

“Hey!”

Yuuji pumped a fist. “Let’s do it!”

“I’ll get the mic,” Yahaba said, grinning.

Shirabu exhaled. “If only I never started hanging out with these people….”

Keiji wiped his forehead in relief. He gave Chikara an uncharacteristic thumbs-up to reassure him his plan was still working. Chikara had confidence in Akaashi’s “plan,” but he also dreaded there might be some other variable they hadn’t accounted for.

And then…the front door unlocked.

“Kenjirou, we’re home early!” came the familiar voice of Shirabu’s parents.

Then, there was a fraught moment as the two adults spotted the bat fluttering indoors.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Mrs. Shirabu screamed at the top of her lungs. Her husband rushed inside, grabbed the pitchfork prop off the floor, and began swinging it at Chikara who dodged frantically. Shigeru the dog casually watched the melee, yawned, and laid down his head to sleep.

The teens crowded the adult male to get him to stop.

“Don’t hurt Chikara!” Terushima cried.

“Chikara? Your friend?” Mr. Shirabu flagged. “Are you guys—”

“ _Cuckoo_ ,” announced the clock.

“Huh. Where’d that clock come from?” Mr. Shirabu reacted. The interruption gave Chikara time to escape into the fireplace and up the chimney. Spotting the critter’s exit, Mr. Shirabu resourcefully lit the logs in the hearth.

Every kid in the room went silent.

“Honey, let’s go to the store and buy bat repellant,” decided Shirabu’s dad. “At least, I _hope_ there’s such a thing.”

“Kenjirou, look after the house for us,” his mom called. “Sorry about this. Keep all the windows closed so no more bats get in!”

“And whatever you do, don’t put out that fire. Maybe it will smoke him out.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” lied Shirabu.

“Was it just me, or did that bat have a fluffy tail?” his mom commented as the two adults exited.

“It was just our imagination. Bats don’t have tails,” her husband reassured as he shut the door behind them.

As soon as the front door closed, Kenjirou immediately stamped out the flames in the fireplace.

The two neighbor kids were sobbing relentlessly at the thought of something terrible happening to Chikara. Kenji ushered them to the door.

“Please make sure Chikara’s all right,” the girl beseeched.

“Yeah, I want to play with him!” the boy appended.

“So do I, so do I,” Futakuchi muttered unironically. “Now go wait for Santa,” he concluded brusquely and shoved the kids outside.

With the flames out, Shirabu stuck his head inside.

“Chikara!” he cried and immediately inhaled a breath-full of soot and choked to high heavens.

“ _Meow!_ ” he heard whining in reply.

“Chikara? Maybe he’s stuck. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I’m going to the roof!” Shirabu declared.

“I’ll go with you,” said Yahaba. They found a ladder in the garage (where Shirabu cursed at the mess Futakuchi made searching for the volleyball) and then proceeded outdoors.

“Let’s shine some lights up from the bottom!” Atsumu proposed. He and Keiji gathered some portable lights. Futakuchi removed the camera and even used the light mounted on it to shine up the chimney, his finger bumping the record button in the process and filming up the flue. Looking up from the bottom into the darkness, they couldn’t see anything, however.

Outside the house, Terushima held the ladder while Shirabu and Yahaba climbed to the roof. Crossing the slanted shingles, Kenjirou carefully approached the chimneystack and shined a flashlight down it. The lights faintly illuminating from underneath backlit Chikara stuck in cobwebs.

“Chikara! I’ll help you.”

“ _Meow!_ ” Chikara called.

Shirabu handed the flashlight off to Yahaba and started to squeeze himself down the chimney. “Hold me while I try to climb inside.”

“Are you crazy?!” Yahaba said.

“What’s _your_ idea, you creampuff furball sea human?!”

Yahaba didn’t know how to respond to that. “Fine. Just don’t squirm!”

In the yard, circling Terushima, the two kids looked up at the roof. “Did they get him?”

As Shirabu clambered down the flue, black dust sprinkled onto the group at the bottom.

“Hey! Watch it!” Futakuchi cried.

“Excuse me for not having a libero the size of a chimneysweep!” Shirabu crowed back. “Mary Poppins made this seem so simple,” he grumbled, squeezing his thick body down the tight space.

Chikara struggled to break free from the cobwebs.

Suspecting an attempted intruder through the fireplace (and more likely, knowing full well it was Shirabu), Shigeru the dog barked around the trio with their heads in the hearth.

“Just a little farther,” Shirabu called to Yahaba, grasping his legs above, to lower him a bit more.

“You grow longer arms!” Yahaba retorted irritably.

Shirabu swiped his hand at Chikara but missed.

He swiped again and just barely managed to grab Ennoshita’s wing.

“ _Meow!_ ” Chikara responded affirmatively.

“I got him!” yelled Shirabu.

The little girl on the lawn looked up to the sky and then tugged on her brother’s pajamas. She pointed.

Up high, they thought they saw a shooting star….

“ _It’s Santaaaaaa_!”

“ _Cuckoo!_ ” the clock crowed above the fireplace, scaring the living daylights out of Atsumu and Kenji who hit their heads on the lintel.

Then, in Kenjirou’s grip, Chikara’s catbat body began to glow. Shirabu shrieked and released Chikara, whose form tumbled down the chimney. Yahaba lost his grip on Shirabu’s legs, and then Kenjirou too began to slide down.

Atsumu, Kenji, and Keiji scrambled out of the hearth before the explosion of soot and logs from Shirabu’s chimney entrance. Shigeru the dog ran away in a panic.

As the cloud of black particles dissipated, everyone saw Shirabu as black as the night, on top of Ennoshita, in the human flesh.

The children ran into Shirabu’s house. “We saw Santa!”

“He already left,” Shirabu, black with soot, exhaustedly said, conveniently covering Ennoshita’s pride.

“Let’s go home and see if he left presents!” declared the girl, and she and her brother ran off into the night.

“Chikara!” a teary Terushima screeched, running inside with Yahaba.

“Yeah, it’s me…,” Ennoshita droned and coughed. Akaashi gave him a blanket.

“How did he turn back to normal though?” Atsumu asked. “We didn’t finish the film.”

“Because,” began Akaashi, dusting himself off, “it wasn’t about the film. The ‘greatest gift’ we could give Chikara was all of us banding together to help him.”

“So the witch is still as cliche as always,” griped Yahaba.

“Dang it. That witch is so cryptic,” Terushima complained, dabbing Shirabu’s sooty face with a damp white towel, in the process soiling it irrecoverably.

“I figured it out from the start,” said Akaashi.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious from her past triteness,” Chikara said, getting the same towel treatment from Atsumu.

“Wait a minute,” objected Yahaba, suddenly indignant at Keiji, “you _knew_ it had nothing to do with the film. You lied to us!”

“Would you have put in all that effort over some abstract interpretation that your actions _might_ save Chikara? No, it was just easier to tell you to make the film.”

Nobody objected to the reasoning.

“Then that just leaves me with one question,” said Kenjirou. “Who’s going to fix all the damages to my house before my parents get back from the store with what they think is ‘bat repellant’?!”

“ _Cuckoo_ ,” the clock announced once more.

“Oh, look at the time,” Kenji chuckled. “I better get home before my parents wonder—”

“You aren’t leaving!” scorched Kenjirou who stomped towards Futakuchi, each angry step shaking off a cloud of soot.

“Wait! You’re still covered in soot! Stay away from me!” Kenji cried desperately but found himself leaped upon by Kenjirou like a feral tiger.

And through all this, Yuuji had to chuckle.

“I gotta say though,” he began. “Each time the witch curses one of us, we sure do grow closer and learn an important lesson about ourselves, and I think that’s really neat!”

He beamed brightly. No one else in the room smiled.

“What?” he asked innocently.

* * *

On Christmas Day, the group managed to refilm the last scene and splice it together before the deadline. The damages at Shirabu’s house were fortunately written off as the work of the bat, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The _seven_ friends—Atsumu now a welcome part of the gang—met again one month later at the film contest screening. With clouds of mysterious dust created by “bat repellant” and using the footage of the “real” catbat, including its glowing descent through the chimney, the film earned massive applause for its “special effects.” That achievement alone secured “Rise of the Catbat” the award for best entry in the contest.

Afterwards, the group sauntered cheerfully out of the building, when a strange woman approached them in the parking lot.

“I was very impressed with the film. My grandkids loved it.”

The group looked to see an elderly woman in a black shawl and pointed hat. Two familiar kids bounced around her.

“Too bad we couldn’t play with you more!” the boy screamed at Ennoshita.

“It was amaaaaazing,” the girl, dressed like the Phantom of the Opera for no apparent reason, cried. She attempted to hiss like the catbat in the movie, flinging out her cape for effect.

“No, it’s…our pleasure.” Chikara glanced away very embarrassed and reluctantly addressed the old woman. “And I guess, somehow, we owe _you_ for this prize….”

“Oh?” Atsumu said, squeezing past everyone. “So this is the witch y’all been talkin’ about?”

Everyone flinched. The children looked up at their grandmother with wide eyes.

The woman looked displeased but then smiled gently.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Atsumu Miya. What’s it to ya?”

“Nothing. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day,” she said before she led her grandchildren away.

“Hah,” Atsumu snorted. “She ain’t so scary.”

The rest of the group sighed.

“Welp,” said Chikara. “Happy New Year.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. In case anyone's wondering about the ridiculous circumstances in which Ennoshita befriended the other NGC, most of those are meta references to other fics of mine lol.
> 
> If you'd like to read the "prequel," click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467200).


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